Had the day off work and I wish I hadn't bothered. EVERYONE has crawled out of their houses today despite the fact that the roads are still icy and dangerous. Queues of cars going in and out of town, each with only one person inside. I got the bus which was full of pensioners who insisted on sharing their entire Christmas plans with the driver before flashing their bus passes. It felt more Christmassy 2 weeks ago when I had a few work dinners and parties to go to. (shhhhhh - us bankers are not supposed to have any fun). Now I'm just fed up with the whole thing AND I slipped over on the ice and knackered my knee.
The last festive family Christmas I had was about 20 years ago. My mum decided not to bother cooking Christmas dinner after my grandparents died and since then all I ever wanted was roast turkey and brussel sprouts on Christmas day, silly cracker jokes, a hearty family argument followed by a drunken sing-a-long.
One year we went out for dinner and had a great time until mum got caught smuggling a selection of posh liqueur glasses out under her party hat. Another year we all selected a microwave frozen dinner each and the year after that my dad cooked a delicious curry. I have even spent Christmas on the beaches of Australia, New Zealand and Africa. IT'S NOT THE SAME! This year my parents are off to Belgium on the Eurostar so I expect they will be spending Christmas at St Pancras Station. Dad's not too worried, he has filled a few bottles with rum and coke to keep him warm.
I am spending Christmas with the Jehovah's Witnesses (my boyfriend's sister and family). They don't "do" Christmas but we have been instructed to bring lots of alcohol and the wii so it might actually be quite fun despite there being no pressies.
Santa sent me a note saying he can't make until Monday 28th this year - the same day my parents get back from Begium/St Pancras. That's okay, I know what I'm getting anyway. A new toothbrush, a packet of alka selzer and a sherbert dip - same as he always brings. If I have been a good girl I might even get a bottle of booze thrown in. Never stop believing - he really does exist!
Tuesday 22 December 2009
Tuesday 15 December 2009
Feel like I've been sent to prison
Well we moved into our dark dingy new office where the ceilings are too low and we have to wear our hats and scarves because of the freezing cold draft. Our unbelievably incompetent idiot of a manager didn't even bother to introduce us to our new "team" and we are tucked away from them anyway in a corner close to the microwave where unidentifiable and horrid smells waft by all day. A man on the desk behind me has his phone on loudspeaker all day long with the volume turned up high and someone left a tin of quality street next to my desk so now I feel sick - and fat. At least Black cat has been moved to another department so I can stop trying to seem interested in her drivel but now I have to take on her workload as well as mine. What with the nightmare train journeys and extra 20 minutes walk it has been a very BAD start to the week.
Monday 7 December 2009
I HATE the General Public!
Oh how the General Public annoy me! Always getting in my way with their mobile phones pressed to their ears and dragging their suitcases along behind them. Stopping suddenly in front of me when I'm hurrying for my train. One day I swear I'm going to throw a wobbly and lash out at one or all of them if they keep on getting in my way. Now that might be worth seeing! And what about the little people? Don't get me started. There should be a law saying that little people must never carry umbrellas on busy sidewalks. I dont know how I managed to get home with both eyes unscathed this evening. And while we're on the subject of little people, why do the short women steal all the tall men leaving us taller ladies with only the little boys to go out with? Oh and the lazy people really get up my nose. You know the ones who jump into the lift just as the doors are closing and only go one floor up. No wonder everyone is so fat these days. And who exactly is voting on these reality shows? How did Kim whats-her-face end up in second place on the Katy Price, I mean the I'm a celebrity show? And why do women with prams and loads of kids always stop for a chat in the middle of the isle at Tescos? And why do the pensioners do their shopping on a Saturday morning when they have all week to spend their pensions? Yes I really do hate the General Public and wish they would all stay out of my way.
When I win the lottery I'm going to buy an Island or a big house with a moat so that I don't have to come in contact with the GP ever again. Rant over, I feel much better now. GOOD
When I win the lottery I'm going to buy an Island or a big house with a moat so that I don't have to come in contact with the GP ever again. Rant over, I feel much better now. GOOD
Friday 4 December 2009
The Office Party
I wasn't really in the mood for the office party. We had been busy all day. My two bosses had had some kind of disagreement and you could almost cut the atmosphere with a knife. The woman next to me was still twittering on, something about her black cat being blacker than my black cat. Nobody else from my section was even planning to go to the party. I'd already paid for my ticket so I decided to tag along with another department, intending just to show my face, have my free drinks allowance and then leave at a respectable hour. It doesn’t ever work out like that does it?
I downed the first 3 Kir Royales in quick succession and then we found a place to stand strategically close to the door where the canapés came out so that we could have first pick of the meagre offerings. More than half of the people were strangers from the other bank that we are due to integrate with in a few weeks time. I was glad to see that it was the geeks from "our" technology department that started off the dancing and soon "our" teams were all joining in, dancing madly and having lots of fun. I'm not sure what sort of impression we made on our stuffy future colleagues, nor do I really care.
Too soon it was past 11.00pm and Cinderella had to leave if she was going to catch the last train at midnight. I had found my way out of the alley and onto a busy road when I realised two things at once. My legs weren't working properly and I had no idea how to get to the train station. A few steps forward, a step back, a few steps sideways and a crash into the wall later and I decided I had better try and hail a cab. Now my eyes weren't focusing properly and I couldn’t distinguish which of the passing cars were taxis so I stood in the middle of the road with my arm wobbling wildly in the air hoping maybe a taxi would see me – and stop. Luckily a taxi driver took pity on me and after several attempts at composing an intelligible sentence I finally managed to communicate to him where I wanted to go. In my head I was feeling completely sober, why was it so hard to get my body to follow instructions?
Somehow I must have made it in time for the last train. I don't remember the rest of the journey but I was tucked up in bed with a thumping headache by the time the alarm went off next morning. Once again I had been successfully guided home against all the odds by that mysterious homing device in my head.
A very GOOD night
I downed the first 3 Kir Royales in quick succession and then we found a place to stand strategically close to the door where the canapés came out so that we could have first pick of the meagre offerings. More than half of the people were strangers from the other bank that we are due to integrate with in a few weeks time. I was glad to see that it was the geeks from "our" technology department that started off the dancing and soon "our" teams were all joining in, dancing madly and having lots of fun. I'm not sure what sort of impression we made on our stuffy future colleagues, nor do I really care.
Too soon it was past 11.00pm and Cinderella had to leave if she was going to catch the last train at midnight. I had found my way out of the alley and onto a busy road when I realised two things at once. My legs weren't working properly and I had no idea how to get to the train station. A few steps forward, a step back, a few steps sideways and a crash into the wall later and I decided I had better try and hail a cab. Now my eyes weren't focusing properly and I couldn’t distinguish which of the passing cars were taxis so I stood in the middle of the road with my arm wobbling wildly in the air hoping maybe a taxi would see me – and stop. Luckily a taxi driver took pity on me and after several attempts at composing an intelligible sentence I finally managed to communicate to him where I wanted to go. In my head I was feeling completely sober, why was it so hard to get my body to follow instructions?
Somehow I must have made it in time for the last train. I don't remember the rest of the journey but I was tucked up in bed with a thumping headache by the time the alarm went off next morning. Once again I had been successfully guided home against all the odds by that mysterious homing device in my head.
A very GOOD night
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